


stargazer

by marigoldies



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Dates, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Public Fights, Rings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 16:36:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9132493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marigoldies/pseuds/marigoldies
Summary: "Adam feels with a sinking certainty that everyone in the restaurant is looking at them."Ronan attempts to wine and dine Adam but it doesn't quite go as planned.





	

Adam feels with a sinking certainty that everyone in the restaurant is looking at them. Despite his best efforts to focus all of his attention on Ronan - twisting the bands on his wrists between his fingers - the eyes of everyone around him are a cold and unforgiving breath on his skin. The lights above him are stars and Adam understands that the people dining here are the darkness that comfortably surrounds them. Adam knew that he would always be looking up. He draws a thumb down the stem of his wineglass. It inches forward and the water stirs, reflecting Adam’s thoughts, ice rocking against the fogged glass.

It had been three years. Three unbelievable years that involved Adam’s busy university/work schedule, a billion Skype calls, a million late night talks over the phone, a thousand fights, a few hundred kisses, and plenty of plane trips and car rides. They managed to meet in the middle in everything, though sometimes they faltered. They’d broken up at least ten times, and Adam knew that for a few of those times they had seen other people. But the entirety of their past, when put together, became something beautiful that tugged on Adam’s stomach and heart each time he thought of it.

Now, his stomach turned for another reason. Ronan had made a reservation for this restaurant without talking to Adam about it, before he’d even booked the monthly plane ticket he allowed him to buy. It frustrated him, but Ronan had done his best to reassure him. He’d explained that it was the best food in Virginia, on the east coast, in the US, in the world. Adam had reluctantly given in. Still, underneath the high glass ceiling of this place and surrounded by people in expensive suits and dresses it’s hard to believe that this is only for a meal. These people are here for their wealth. 

“Parrish?” Ronan means to sound casual, but Adam can hear how his anxiety squeezes the word.

Ronan. Anywhere but here and Adam would meet his gaze to smooth out his boyfriend’s nerves. Yet, he can’t bring himself to when it feels as though his pride is being crushed between Ronan’s fingers. A whisper in his head urges him to think of this dinner as kindness and love. But the menu had prices that would’ve bought him a week’s worth of groceries. Splitting the check was nearly unfathomable. A setback that would have him reeling. He’d ordered between nearly clenched teeth.

“Adam?” Ronan’s quiet voice is laced with fear. Then it turns bitter. “I should have known you’d be like this. I didn’t do it because - obviously not for - I didn’t - fuck.”

Adam can’t help himself. He looks up. “It’s okay.”

Ronan’s eyes are hopeful spring skies. “It’s about us, Adam. Not about the money or these fucking people. I just wanted you to try some damn good food.”

Adam knows he means it. Yet there they sat, in one of the most expensive restaurants in Henrietta and Adam had never been more aware of what an odd couple they made. Both men, one born to privilege and one to bruises. Whenever he returned to places like this, Adam felt the heavy weight of the divide that stretched between him and Ronan.

“Stop thinking for once in your goddamn life, Parrish.” There’s an edge now. It’s all Ronan and it touches Adam’s heart like a live wire and brings him out of his thoughts. Ronan knows him so well that once in awhile he’ll read him as easily as a single word - the simplest book. He’d told Adam once, with the mockery of Gansey self-evident, that it was just one of the results of a long and continuous observational study. Then he’d kissed Adam to pieces. Adam was struck sometimes by how closely he’d been watching.

“You couldn’t have gotten takeout?” Adam’s voice is a strangled mess of laughter and loathing. There are two forks laid out on his napkin and he considers them. If they didn’t leave soon he might decide to put one through his neck.

Ronan laughs, too, and it’s a sound brighter than the lights and the stars. “We’ll ask for a box when they bring it out or whatever the fuck you want - if that’s what you want.”

“It’s what I want.” Adam feels Ronan’s gaze now - changing the air around him from chilling to toasty warm. He smiles and Ronan leans forward. It looks almost involuntary, like he had been hooked and drawn in. It fills Adam to the brim with a different kind of pride.

“Good,” Ronan was smiling back. It was uninhibited and vulnerable, the kind of smile Adam had begun to earn more frequently the longer they’d been together. Yet, the frequency only made him appreciate every single one. They were all unique. All dreams.

The waitress comes with the food just then and sets down two beautiful plates. Adam turns and thanks her before taking a sip from his glass. Ronan asks for the boxes, which causes her to falter a bit. Adam explains that something had come up as smoothly as he can manage. She’s kind and understanding and he feels an appreciation with an undercurrent of sympathy.

“I’ll be right back, then,” she tells them and Adam notices her name tag reads Daisy. “Would you like a bottle of champagne, or wine, to take home as well? We have a Dom Ruinart with your names on it.”

Just as Adam swallows and goes to decline, Ronan lips twist into a sly grin. “Well, we can’t leave it waiting for us, then, right?”

Tension comes to life under Adam’s skin.

“Right,” Daisy answers with a good-natured laugh. She begins to walk away and is only just out of sight when Adam grabs Ronan’s hand and squeezes.

“That is two hundred dollar champagne, Lynch,” he hisses. He’d glanced at the menu and seen it, only nerves liquidating the laughter that bubbled up. Alcohol was distasteful enough, but expensive alcohol was excessive and unnecessary. Ronan would drink the whole bottle and not think of the price.

“Calm the fuck down. Do you want to make a scene?” Ronan’s words are acid. His eyes are watchful and challenging.

“I’m sure you want me to,” Adam lets go of Ronan’s hand. “A six pack will get you drunk just as quickly. I don’t know why you need champagne.”

“It’s not about that. None of this is about money, Parrish,” Ronan sounds breathless, disbelieving. “Why can’t you just have a good time?”

“It’s not like we’re at an amusement park or a- a Friendly’s!” Adam’s voice rises in pitch, in volume. “Why do you have to bring me  _ here  _ of all places?”

“Why can’t you live your fucking life without worrying about what it’s going to cost?” Ronan is yelling and Adam is sinking back into his seat. He pushes the heels of his hands against his eyes until he can see nothing but swirls of light and color. The restaurant goes eerily silent.

“Nothing is ever worth what it costs.”

It’s the wrong thing for Adam to say. Ronan’s intake of breath is the loudest thing in the room. Then, the distinctly flippant sound of cash dropping onto the table.

“Then this isn’t worth it, is it?”

Leave it to Ronan Lynch to have the last word. Adam raises his head just as Ronan rounds the corner and disappears from sight. The sounds of other patrons having dinner resumes reluctantly, laced with whispers that chorus into static.

This fight was familiar, but it always stung. Ronan could live without thinking too hard, trying too hard, caring too much. Adam thrived in doing all three - pushing himself to the limit was how he found himself living sometimes. Allowing himself to let go felt like going numb. Ronan expected him to do it without a problem. It would never be that easy.

His relationship with Ronan was one that took a lot of patience. One that tried his patience. Fights like this were about perspective. From Adam’s, it was about cost and consequence. Hard lines, obstacles. The need to break them apart before indulging. From Ronan’s, it was about freedom and choices. Doing what you wanted just because you wanted it. His words echoed again in Adam’s head.

What did Adam Parrish want?

Anything to make it through the day.

Maybe someday he wouldn’t have to live like that, but it always rolled again and again into tomorrow.

Right now he wants everyone around him to shut up. The idea that they’re talking about him is like an itch so bad he wishes he could claw his skin off.

“Sir?” A voice shatters his thoughts and he startles.

“Your change.” It was Daisy, with her hands full of bills. Adam looks up at her, down at the boxed food. How long had he been sitting there?

“Keep it.” He knows Ronan wouldn’t care.

“Do you need a bag?”

“No, thanks.” Adam stands up, cradling the boxes in his arms. He pauses and turns to Daisy to say, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” her eyes are full of a genuine smile that her lips could only imitate. “The champagne is on the counter waiting for you. I can bring it out to your car.”

Adam nods and leads the way, guiding her to Ronan’s BMW. It glints under the light of the lamppost. The doors unlock under Ronan’s fingers and Adam deposits the boxes in the back seat. Daisy places the bottle there as well.

“Have a good night, gentlemen,” She says politely before walking away. Adam closes the back door and slides into the passenger seat.

Ronan’s body is pressed against his own seat with rigid lines. Adam, for a moment, can’t discern if he’s angry. His face is turned as he looks out the window. 

Then he speaks.

“I fucking love you.”

His voice is wet and when he turns to look at Adam, his eyes are misty. Like he’s been holding tears back instead of letting them fall.

“You would burn this  _ whole town _ to the ground,” Ronan sweeps his hand, palm up, just above and across the dashboard. “And build something better.”

“I don’t think I could build anything better than good ol’ Henrietta, Virginia,” Adam rolls the accent and sarcasm over his tongue, though his heart aches. Ronan seems a crack, a misstep away from complete vulnerability. Adam feels responsible.

“I don’t know,” Ronan shrugs his shoulders, pulls them back and stretches the silk of his black dress shirt. Adam is struck now, by how he must’ve worn it for him. “I think you could do it. I think you could do anything.”

“You can dream things to life.”

“You could do things that fucking matter. You could help starving children, stop global warming, change the world. Whatever the fuck.”

“Stop global warming? All by myself?”

“Yeah. Save the penguins.”

“The penguins.”

“The polar bears. The fish.”

“I don’t think I could save anything,” Adam sighs, leaning his head back.

“You saved yourself.”

Adam feels the words rush through him. They’re like a kiss on his skin, a prayer. He can’t find the words to say. He’s afraid to breathe, afraid to clear the words from the air, break the moment open. Remember this, he tells himself.

“Let’s go before the food gets cold,” Ronan says. Like it’s simple. The car starts under his touch and they peel out of the parking lot almost too fast. The moon is a slash in the sky. The stars are sparkling. Ronan passes a glance his way and Adam returns it. 

“I love you, too,” he says. It’s the only thing he can think of. Everything else feels too small.

“Don’t talk,” Ronan focuses on the road ahead of him, serious and somehow soft at the same time. “Don’t do anything or I’m going to fucking kiss you. Then we’ll die.”

Adam stays quiet, closes his eyes, feels the familiar turns as they make their way to the Barns. He finds himself thinking again about how well Ronan knows him, how he watched him when Adam looked the other way. How his study must have charted a path straight to the deepest parts of him. Tonight it’s like they’re navigating it, feeling his heartstrings under the tires.

In three years, Ronan had never taken him somewhere that Adam couldn’t split the check. In three years, their arguments had been over simpler things. A gift, a bill, a textbook. Ronan tidying the seams of Adam’s money problems and Adam getting tired of it. It had never been quite so blatant. This was different, intended.

After playing the fights over behind his eyelids, Adam is surprised to feel them stop. When he opens his eyes, they’re at the Barns. Ronan’s getting out. Adam follows suit and when they have the boxes and the champagne, they start to walk through the fields.

“I’m sorry,” Adam tells him, like always. “I overreacted.”

“I crossed the line,” Ronan replies. “It was too much.”

This is how it goes. The apology on Adam’s tongue, Ronan’s answering one in his ear.

“Why there?” Adam asks. It’s new, pressing boundaries.

“I’ll tell you, just fucking wait a second,” Ronan laughs. “Patience is a virtue.”

The words from Ronan’s mouth make Adam laugh too. The whole thing is confusing but then Ronan’s pulling Adam down into the grass. He’s pushing the box from Adam’s lap. He’s kissing him. His lips are soft and warm, the movements of them practiced. Adam feels joy twisting through him, knowing that so much of Ronan’s experience came from his own. Just a second after Adam slips his tongue into the kiss, Ronan is putting his hands on Adam’s chest and drawing away.

“Food,” he says, like it could explain everything. He returns the box to Adam, then swears. “What are we going to eat with?”

“Our hands?” Adam suggests.

Ronan groans like he’s in pain. “Don’t.”

“I’m not that hungry, just hold on,” Adam murmurs. His curiosity is piqued. “Tell me why you took me to the restaurant.”

“Fuck, Parrish,” Ronan runs a hand over his head. “Is that what you want? Right now?”

He says it like there could be a better time. It only makes Adam need to know. “Please.”

“I want us to live together when you’re done with college.”

Adam’s quiet, attentive.

“I wanted to do it right. I made the reservation, I bought a - a ring,” Ronan isn’t looking at him. He’s looking down at what had once been a field. A place that now allowed Ronan to drive as wildly as he wanted without the consequences. It was safe. It made Adam feel safe. “I didn’t want to tell you, after dinner.”

He says dinner bitterly, sarcastically. He picks at his own failure like a scab. Adam wants to tell him that it’s not his fault. But he doesn’t speak, lets Ronan choose his words.

“I wanted to do something for you, and I fucked it up.”

Adam breaks his silence, reaches out and slips his fingers between Ronan’s. “I fucked up. I shouldn’t have judged you. You did  _ everything  _ right.”

Ronan squeezes his hand softly, runs his thumb over the back of Adam’s. Their eyes meet. Another open smile. Adam’s thoughts turn between every detail of tonight that Ronan had thought through and his own angry ignorance. He feels ashamed, guilty. All gentle, he says, “The ring?”

Ronan’s smile somehow turns brighter and Adam watches as his free hand fumbles in his pocket for a box. It’s a deep red and when he opens it, Adam bites down on his lip.

It’s simple. It’s silver. Those are the only sure things and Adam all at once loves it and Ronan. It’s modest, but something Adam is proud of. Ronan knows him when Adam thinks he’s unknowable. He’s surprised to feel a hot splash on his arm.

“Don’t fucking cry.” Ronan wiggles his silk shirt down his arm and wipes away the sparse tears that had slid from Adam’s eyes.

“Are you going to put it on me?” Adam demands, voice watery. He swallows and wipes his own face, putting his hand over his mouth and sniffling. He doesn’t know why he’s crying. It’s because of the ring, but more because of Ronan. Ronan had been looking at him for so long and Adam, despite looking back, only ever saw so much of him. Now he felt like he’d been so stupid, to not have understood just how much he was loved.

Ronan detangles their fingers and pulls the ring from the box. It’s shining under the moon as he slides it onto Adam’s hand. Adam makes a fist and undoes it, straightens his hand. Ronan’s looking at him now and Adam’s so aware of it. He returns the favor.

“What does this mean?”

“Whatever you want it to mean.”

“I don’t want to come back to Henrietta. You don’t want to leave the Barns.”

The truth sank in slow. Ronan seemed as though he’d been aware of it, but it was only just becoming a reality.

“We’ll figure it out,” Adam says, using his fingers to twist his new ring - round and round. Ronan reaches out and grabs his hand in a sudden movement, bringing it up to his lips. Adam raises his eyebrows.

Ronan kisses each one of his knuckles, kisses his ring. Adam feels his face grow warm.

“The food. Needs to go in the fridge.” The words come out clipped. “It was expensive.”

“So was the ring. I want to give it the attention it deserves.”

Adam pulls his hand away. “Want it back, then?”

“I want to give  _ you _ the attention  _ you _ deserve,” Ronan corrects himself, picking up his box of food and the champagne and rising to his feet. Adam stands up too.

They start to make their way back through the fields when Ronan bumps their hips together and leans into Adam, pressing his lips to his good ear. He whispers something, breath hot and words filthy. Adam pushes him away with his shoulder, walks faster. It becomes a game, the boxes almost falling from their arms in the chase. By the time they reach the house they’re both breathless. They make quick work of putting the food away.

Ronan pushes Adam against the counter, kisses him.

The moment their lips part, Adam whispers between them.

“This is worth every cent.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing present tense. Also my first time writing anything for TRC, let alone Pynch. Let me know what you think!
> 
> Also, let me know if you want me to write what comes right after this. If you know what I mean. (;
> 
> Find me @ goldimari on tumblr.


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